Trick or Treat
The clown sits staring out the window.  Waiting.  He knows they’ll come.  Every Halloween it’s the same thing.  He is made a mockery of.  Toilet paper strewn through his yard, Eggs oozing down his door, and his porch smeared with smoldering shit.  Yes, he’s waiting.  He’ll get them this year.  He has a special treat for them.
The mother busies herself, decorating her house.  She has a talent, her house is a work of art.  She transforms her two story contemporary home, into a decrepit mansion.  She loves Halloween.  She is nervous.  She can’t sit still, so she keeps busy.   Don’t think, keep busy, keep busy.  Carve the pumpkin, scrape out it’s guts, and cut it till it looks good.  Keep busy, don’t think.
The teenager eyes his target.  Every year he messes with the guy.  Toilet papering his lawn, egging his garage, anything to pester the jerk.  It is a Halloween tradition.  The old man is a bitch, he’s rude.  The teen deals with him all the time.  Takes his insults while he buys crap at the little hardware store the teen works at.  He’s not paid enough for that.  The old man makes his life hell.  So one night a year the teen takes his revenge and this year he has something phenomenal planned.
Store clerk watches as a teen purchases ten bags of one hundred count forks.  The kid’s cute she thinks, brown hair that hangs in his eyes, tight fitting black T-shirt, and Chucks.  He has trouble written all over him, but she likes that in guys.  She gave him a smile “Wow this is a lot of forks, you planning a party”? He smiles “Na, just a little prank”.
The Vampire shrieks in joy when he views himself in the mirror.  He is the scariest vampire out there.  His mom smears on black makeup around his eyes, and on his lips, it’s thick and cold on his skin.  
“Eww this feels funny, Mom!”
  “I know, that’s what I feel like everyday”
  “You feel like a monster?”
“No but if you’re not careful I’ll gobble you up”
She lunges at him and he scrambles away squealing in happiness.  His mom catches him up in her arms and gives him a huge hug .  The vampire then goes back to mirror and bares his fangs menacingly at the mirror.  Yes he is the scariest vampire out there.
The clown waits. He is almost ready.  In front of him rows and rows of red red apples.  Shiny razor blades gleam in the light.  He takes a blade into his hand and kisses it to the apple, gently at first.  Traces the blade over the skin of the apple like a lover’s touch.  He slips it into the apple, burying it deep in the flesh.  He cradles the apple in his hand, admiring its perfection .  The clown takes it and swirls it in hot melted caramel and places it on wax paper.  Caramel oozes down the apple like poison.  The clown waits.  Only matter of time, and they will come.  Grubby hands grasping, begging for treats, to shove into their greedy gobs.  He waits for them to come.  Dusk is here, soon, soon.
The mother’s hand shakes as she applies eyeliner.  She messes up and swipes q-tip over her eye to fix her makeup.  She’s so jittery.  She feels like she’s forgetting something.  Isaac is already in his Halloween costume, everything’s ready.  Something is off.  She doesn’t want to go out anymore, but Isaac is so excited. Something is wrong.  She paints on cat whiskers, looks at herself in the mirror, she’s as good of a cat as any.  What is she forgetting?
The teen watches the house.  No sign from the old man.  Earlier he was shuffling around in a clown costume, what a creepy old fuck.  The teen’s bag is filled with his ammo.  He just has to wait for it to get darker.
The store clerk sits on her front stoop, cradling a bowl of candy in her lap.  The night is perfect cool with a warm breeze.  This kind of weather is her favorite, it fills her with mischief.  She envies the kids going down the street tonight.  They run laugh and giggle a parade of beautiful and terrible things.  She wishes she was still young enough to dress up.  A little vampire runs up to her, she gives him some candy and waves to his mom.
Trick or Treat!  The vampire runs down the street cape flaring behind him.  Smell my feet!  Leaves swirl and dance in the road. Give me something good to eat!  His bag is heavy with candy and he’s flying.  He sees a house at the end of the road.  The porch light is on.  He runs full speed toward the house, and ignores his mom’s pleas to stop.  “Trick or Treat!” he yells at the door.  A clown opens the door blocking out all the light.
The mother cries for him to stop as Isaac runs up the porch.  This place gives her the creeps.  The lawn is bare as if no leaves dare land on it.  The trees above are already leafless, reaching dead branches up to the sky in mourning.  A hulking clown comes to the door towering over Isaac.  She makes her way to the door quickly, but the clown merely shoves a package into Isaac’s bag and shuts the door.  Off Isaac flies again.  It’s getting dark, they need to head home.
It’s dark, all the trick or treaters are safely at home, the old man has gone to bed.  Time to go.  The teen rips open a package of forks, and plants the fork tines firmly in the ground. He bends the fork till the tines snap off.  They stick out of the lawn like bones out of a grave.  One down, nine hundred ninety nine to go.  Working methodically he plants the forks in the old man’s yard.  Tedious as the work is it would be worth it for the one “What the fuck?!?” moment the old man would have.  He may even come by tomorrow, just for the satisfaction of seeing the old man hunched over picking up hundreds of forks.
The vampire is hunched over his goodies.  Candy wrappers strewn around him, his stomach is swollen with candy.  “Isaac, eat something healthy!” his mom calls from the kitchen.  His eyes fall on a caramel apple.  
“Apples are healthy aren’t they mom?”
“Yeah”
“OK”
Grabbing the apple he unwraps it.  Caramel pools around the apple like blood.  Greedily he sinks his teeth into the apple.
Where did he get an Apple?  The mom thinks.  A shriek, like a siren, cuts into the silence in the kitchen.  She races to the living room.  There is Isaac.  Red red blood dripping.  Dripping down his chin.  Screaming, Screaming.
The teenager snickers to himself to see the old man hobbling around trying to clean his yard.  Thousands of white plastic twigs sprouting from the ground like albino grass.  The old man disgusts him.  He is so pitiful, hunching over like that, limping slightly.  The teen doesn’t know why he takes such great joy in harassing the geezer.  He thinks back to the clown costume from the night before and shudders. There was something wrong with that man, something very wrong.